Trademark Words
by Kaia-Rhea
Summary: On the exterior, everything looks fine. He's just Kyle. But there's more to him then anyone else knows. Rated T for abusive themes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One   
They'd joked about it before.  
He wouldn't tell his mother if he got into trouble, saying that she would go berserk. Cartman would take the piss out of his mom, calling her a fat bitch. He was scared, so he told him to shut up every time.  
Every damn time.

Placing a tentative hand on the door handle, he steadied himself, drawing in a few deep breaths.  
He could stall for a few minutes. He could hang out with Stan at his own house. He could even go back to Kenny's. Sometimes he envied his friends. Their mothers didn't just put on a display of false affection, they actually loved their children, enveloped them in absolute hugs.  
His own mother? She did all the right things; taking him to a doctor if he was ill, picking him up and kissing his knees if he fell and grazed them.  
But did she really love him? Her over-protective personality and pet names said yes.  
But the bruises and welts that regularly streaked his backside, thighs and back told a different tale.  
The door opened, drawing Kyle from his reverie.  
"Kyle?" it was his dad, probably on his way to the store. "Why are you out here?" He looked up at his dad, blinking hard, trying to keep the tears back. Slowly, regretfully, he pulled out a scrunched piece of paper from his pocket. His math test.  
His _failed _math test. Seeing the red circled letter at the top of the test, his dad sighed and squeezed his son's shoulder  
"Don't worry" he said softly. "Just show mom. I'm sure she'll be fair."  
And off he went. Kyle watched him go, the first tear trickling down his face. _If only._

He entered the living room, where his mom was reading a magazine.  
"Hey, snooky-kins, did you have a good day?" Kyle opened his mouth to speak, but on finding no words that could fit the question, he gritted his teeth and held out the piece of paper to her.  
She read it, and her expression hardened. She said nothing, only glared at her son.  
"Go get the belt, _honey_" she ordered.  
He wanted to argue, to tell her where she had gone wrong. But he didn't dare, knowing it would only make things worse.  
He complied, and upon handing it to her bent over the arm of the sofa without being asked.  
She tugged down his trousers and underwear, exposing the now faint marks cluttering his peachy skin, and uttered her trademark words:  
"Remember honey, I'm only doing this because I love you."  
He closed his eyes and clenched his fist as the first stroke whipped down.

_I know what it's like to be in Kyle's position, so I hope I've portrayed it well.  
I'd appreciate a review if you have time, and thanks for reading! Oh, and also, I am English so writing in 'American style' (e.g., saying Math instead of Maths) is quite different, so yeah.  
Toodle pip!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to 'Shirbells Style Whitlock' and 'SuperDupergirl' for the first two reviews on my story. Although one of them wasn't really a review, I still love getting them!_

Chapter two  
When he was finally let up, Kyle curled into a ball on his bed. The angry red welts covering his skin burned furiously. Tears flowed down his paled cheeks, and he wiped them away, annoyed at himself. Why did he keep screwing up like this?  
The sound of the doorbell broke the silence, and he sat up on hearing Stan's voice. The conversation was muffled but he could pretty much guess what was being said. His mother would tell Stan that he was in trouble for getting an F on a test, but would usually let him see his friend anyway.  
"Hey dude, what's up?" Stan let himself into Kyle's room, and paused momentarily on seeing his friend's red-rimmed eyes. He dismissed it quickly, knowing that Kyle tended to get hay fever around this time of year.  
"Shelly's having a friend over for the night and I was wondering if you wanted to come over as well?" Kyle forced a smile across his lips. "Yeah, if my mom'll let me. She wasn't really pleased that I failed the test." Stan sat beside his friend on the bed.  
"Yeah, I guessed. So what, are you like grounded or something like that?"  
Kyle looked away, clenching his fists."Something like that." he replied.  
"You okay dude?" Stan sounded concerned, watching his friend's expression carefully.  
"Yeah. I'm fine."

No one in the Marsh noticed a major difference in Kyle that evening; although a few eyebrows were raised at dinner when he gasped and leapt up as his bruised flesh made contact with the hard wood of his chair. His cheeks had reddened, and he had forced himself to sit down again and act like nothing was wrong.  
It was only when the boys were getting ready for bed that Stan realised something was wrong. Due to his diabetes, Kyle sometimes had to inject himself with insulin in the hip. He tugged his trousers down slightly at the back and pulled his white t-shirt up at the back, forgetting that Stan would be able to see the welted skin. Stan looked up briefly to see what his friend was doing - and that was all it took. He gasped.  
"Shit, dude!" Kyle spun round, bringing a hand up to his mouth. Stan was gaping at him, his eyes fixed on the spot where he had just caught a glimpse of his best friend's abused body. He stood up shakily and the two boys stared at each other until Kyle broke the strained silence.  
"It's... It's not what it looks like!" Stan shook his head unbelievingly. He only had to put two and two together to realise what was going on. "So your mom... That's how... That's how she punished you? Shit... Oh shit..." He took a step towards Kyle, who in turn stepped back. He sighed.  
"I... Can I see?" the red-head opened his mouth to say no, but he was suddenly overcome with a huge sense of longing. Years of being beaten mercilessly by his angry mother flashed before his eyes, and without saying a word he turned around again, putting his hands on the bed covers and leaning forward. Stan took a deep breath as he carefully lifted up his friend's shirt, and he let it out in a low sigh when he saw the marks criss-crossing Kyle's back. He gently touched one of the welts, stroked it tentatively with his finger.  
"Oww..." Kyle whimpered quietly, clenching his jaw.  
"Sorry dude... But you have to tell someone!" Stan dropped his friend's t-shirt and put a reassuring hand on his arm. Kyle shook his head.  
"No... She only did it 'cause I failed a test! It was my own fault, I should have studied!" Stan sighed again.  
"But this isn't a normal punishment... This is abuse, Kyle..." The red-head turned around to look at his friend, tears welling up in his eyes.  
"Do you think I don't know that?" he hissed. Stan stepped back, alarmed.  
"Do you think that I'm not reminded of that almost every fucking second of every fucking day? And don't you think that if I wanted to tell someone, I woulda done already?" Kyle crumpled in a heap on the floor, his head buried in his hands. Stan slid down beside him.  
"I'm sorry" Kyle mumbled. "I'm just... Scared." His friend nodded, and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.  
"I know Kyle. I know."

Neither of the boys mentioned the painful marks on Kyle's skin over the rest of the weekend. They hung out with Cartman and Kenny, and Stan realised that if he hadn't seen what he _had _seen then he might not be able to tell anything was wrong with his best friend.  
He seemed perfectly normal.

_I'm going to leave it there as I'm really crap at doing long chapters.  
I'd love a review, and maybe you could let me know what you think Stan should do. Should he tell someone or leave it up to Kyle's decision? Tell me in a review!  
Thanks for reading, and I hope it wasn't too shit._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Please make sure you read the not at the end of this chapter. It's important that you do, and the bit that especially needs reading is in bold.  
Thanks,  
Kai**_

Chapter three  
"Kyle, I need you to take care of Ike this evening. Your father's finishing work late and I promised Ms. Johnson across the street that I'd take her to her doctor's appointment." He nodded dutifully.  
"Thank you Kyle. I'll be home in about half an hour."she gave him a kiss on the cheek and left.  
"Kyle?" Ike tugged on his brother's jacket as soon as his mother had left.  
"Yeah Ike?"  
"I want ice cream!" Kyle rolled his eyes.  
"No Ike, you haven't had dinner yet. No ice cream." Ike pulled his face into a pout, and went on to sulk for the next fifteen minutes.  
Kyle was doing his history homework on the sofa when the phone rang. It was Stan, supposedly asking about his own homework, but Kyle had a feeling that he was really just checking up on him. It had been two weeks since he had told his best friend about his mom, and since then Stan had been so much more... Caring. Kyle knew that he glanced over at the now fading welts and bruises when they dressed for PE, checking for any new marks. When he did finally convince him that his answers were okay and hung up the phone, he turned around to find that Ike had disappeared from the room. His eyes widened. He ran into the kitchen, only to find his little brother sitting on the floor, a brown substance smeared over his mouth and cheeks, and not one, but _three _cartons of ice cream surrounding him. The red-head's eyes widened in shock.  
"_No! _Ike! Oh shit!" the baby looked up at his brother, trying to look innocent even amongst the incriminating evidence.  
"That wasn't supposed to be for you! It cost like $5 a tub! Mom is gonna kill me!" Kyle bit his lip nervously.  
"Maybe we can cover this up. Yeah, that's what we'll do. Ike, you go get cleaned up. I'll put the ice cream away." he suddenly became aware that his little brother wasn't looking at him.  
"Ike? What are you looking-" he jumped as a hand clapped down on his shoulder and spun him around to face its owner. His mother glared down at him.  
"So, this is what happens when I ask you to _watch _your little brother. Were you watching him like I asked you to Kyle?" Her son trembled in fear. "N-no ma'am"  
"And did I just hear you say you were going to cover it up so I wouldn't know?"  
"Yes ma'am." She tightened her grip on his arm, grasping it hard enough to leave a bruise.  
"I think we need to have a little talk about this, don't you?" Kyle swallowed apprehensively, staring at the floor. His mother shook him hard.  
"Answer me Kyle!"  
"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry!"  
"Very well. Go to your room. And take the paddle- The holey one."

Kyle Broflovski sat very gingerly for the next week or so. He would perch very carefully on the edge of his seat in class- and this didn't go unnoticed by Stan. The raven-haired boy cornered him in the boy's toilets one recess.  
"What did she do to you?" he demanded angrily. Kyle glanced around the room worriedly, checking for anyone that could overhear them.  
"Not so loud! She didn't do anything, I swear-" his best friend cut him off.  
"Oh really? Then how come you can't sit down properly?" he grabbed Kyle's shoulders, shortening the space between their bodies. "Please, Ky. You're my best friend, why won't you just tell me?" he hung his head, and Stan pulled him into a hug.  
"You're my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. You know you can tell me anything, right?" his friend nodded, wiping away the tears that streamed down his face.  
"Thanks Stan" he said quietly.

_That was crap, wasn't it? Absolute bullshit.  
BUT NEVER MIND! I'll put that down to having been up for 18 hours straight now, plus the fact that I'm 14 and easily distracted.  
Plus I'm just crap at writing. ANYWAY:  
__**I'm at a crossroad here. I'm not sure how to continue the story, as I have got two possible and plausible ideas, them being:  
a) Stan tells someone.  
b) He doesn't.  
I'm not sure which I prefer, so I really need feedback on this. I will put a poll up on my user page, and you can either vote using that or leave me a review- which would be easier since I haven't the faintest idea how to set up a poll anyway.  
I was originally going to write two chapters, one for section A and one for section B, but being the clever person I am not, I only just realised that I'd have to keep writing two separate chapters from then on.  
Therefore, it's up to you:-  
Either vote, or don't vote, in which case I will most probably discontinue the story for a while until my indecisive brain makes a decision. Which may not ever happen, so it's probably easier that you just vote.  
Ta!**_


	4. Author's Note

Firstly, thank you to everyone who voted or left me a review stating your opinion. It was great to hear from everybody, and I had a real mix of answers.

I had to think hard about whether to submit the next chapter as it is or not, for several reasons. If you have read any of my other fics, you will probably have realised that I write very dramatic stories. The thing is, I don't mean for them to be as dramatic as they seem!  
For example, the first two chapters of this story may appear exaggerated, as Kyle is beaten both times in them. I want to make it clear that he is not beaten regularly, but only when he has done something that (in his mother's eyes) warrants it, and that is not enough to make him emotionally damaged beyond return- The 'best' part about having been through it myself is knowing exactly how much a kid like Kyle can take- and that's a hell of a lot more than all those tear-jerking 'real life' stories of abuse and neglect.  
Anyway, this next chapter (I will post it soon) yet again features Sheila 'disciplining' her son, but this will probably be the last chapter involving that sort of thing for a while. (Hopefully).  
I hope you enjoy it, and I'd appreciate anything you have to say about it, whether it's good of bad. I'm always looking for ways to improve :)

Thanks.  
Kaia


	5. Chapter 5

_Firstly, thanks to all who've reviewed. I love getting them :D And secondly...  
Nope, that's it. I hope you like this next chapter._

"Dude, why can't you just tell her to stop? I hate seeing you like this..." Stan put an arm around his best friend, who was hunched up, his head in his arms. _Silence. _  
"Why can't you tell?" Kyle looked up, his green eyes shining with tears.  
"Because I love her" he whispered. "It's never been so hard before... It was just what life was... But now I've told you and every time it happens I just get so stupidly emotional. And now I've gone and got detention for skipping gym and she's gonna be so mad! I wish..." he trailed off.  
"What do you wish?"  
"Never mind"Stan was adamant.  
"You can tell me, I'm your best friend! What did you wish?"A few tears trickled down the smaller boy's face.  
"I wish I'd never told you!" Stan was taken aback. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but could neither find the words or the temperament to fit the situation. So instead, he gave Kyle a look of hurt that pierced his very soul, and left him on his own.

CRACK! "Owww..." CRACK! "Aieeee!" CRACK! CRACK! "Nooo... I'm sorry..." CRACK! CRACK! "NOOO!"  
Not able to restrain himself any longer, Kyle pushed himself away from the arm of the sofa he'd been leaning on. His mother glared at him.  
"Get back in position." she growled. He shook his head, panicked.  
"No... Please..." Sheila took a menacing step towards him, and he cowered. "Stan says you can't do this!" he blurted out. His mom froze. She looked shocked, as if she'd expected things to stay the same forever. As if she'd expected to be able to keep on beating her eight-year-old son and for everything to be just dandy. Finally, after a few minutes of piercing silence, she spoke.  
"You... Did... What?" she hissed. Kyle backed away nervously, twisting his hands into knots.  
"Nothing! I'm sorry!" for a moment Sheila just glared down at her son. Then she raised her fist and brought it down hard on the side of his face. He staggered back, lights flashing in his vision field.  
"Over the sofa" she commanded.  
Kyle complied, and braced himself for the beating of a lifetime.

_Kyle_  
He called me at least half a dozen times that night, leaving desperate messages, saying he was sorry. He wanted to be friends again. He wanted me to come over to stay for the night. I wanted it too. I so wanted to escape from the confinements of my bedroom, but the bruising around my eye was enough to deter me from ever seeing him again. I didn't want Stan to tell anyone. I didn't need him.  
_I don't need anybody..._

Sorry for the short chapter. I'm going out with some friends and after that I'll be busy cooking, shopping, cleaning and all that for a while.  
Thanks for reading, I'd love a review :D


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm so tired. Mum's sick again, and I've barely slept over the last few days, so please excuse me if this chapter is absolute shit._

**Chapter five****  
**"You're _sure _he didn't call and say he was sick?" Stan asked for the fourth time. Mr. Garrison sighed exasperatedly.  
"No, Stan. He hasn't called in the two minutes since you asked, but if he does I promise I'll write about it in the newspaper, go on national television and tell everyone and then shout it from the roof tops. Now please, take your seat." Stan was anxiously wringing his blue and red hat in his hands, but he obeyed.  
'_What if this is my fault?' _he thought. His thoughts were entangled with remorse and regret, and with every contrite thump of his heart his conscience sank deeper and deeper into the dark depths of guilt. He'd promised himself, _promised _that he wouldn't get angry at Kyle- yet he had. He'd thoughtlessly abandoned his friend instead of talking him through it. _Why didn't you talk him through it?_ He'd buried his head in his arms and was busy cursing himself when the door to the classroom opened. He looked up, and his face instantly relaxed into one of relief when Kyle entered. His head was low, and he was staring at the floor so the side of his face was out of sight. He muttered an apology for his lateness, and slid into his seat.  
Mr. Garrison continued to teach the class about the Boston Tea Party; and neither Stan nor Kyle appeared to be listening.  
"Kyle Broflovski! Have you been listening to a word I've been saying?" the red-head didn't answer. His cheek was cupped in his hand, and his eyes were clouded with shame.  
"Hey, I asked you a question young man! Take your hand away from your face, and look at me!" Kyle slowly drew his hand away from his face, and several gasps were heard as they saw his bruised skin, tending from deep purple to yellow around the edges. Stan's jaw dropped. _ See what you did?_

***

Stan  
Just do it. Stop being such a pussy. **Just do it! **I ran my hands through my dark hair; hatless, for once, and minced over to Kyle, who was sitting on his own in the classroom. I was sure he was isolating himself to avoid the awkward question of how _it _happened. I was surprised Mr. Garrison hadn't asked him yet; he had when Shelley gave me a black eye. Maybe he didn't want to bother anymore.  
"Kyle?" he didn't even look up, just stared blankly at the floor. I sat down beside him. "I'm sorry. I should never have run out on you when you needed me. I feel really bad." Kyle said nothing, so I continued. "I know this must be really hard on you... I can't imagine what it's like to have a mom who beats the shit outta you... And I overreacted when I shoulda just talked to you about it. I understand if you wish you'd never told me...  
"But I will help you, Kyle. You're my best friend, and I promise you I will help you when you need it." he finally looked up, his big green eyes filled with tears.  
"You really mean that?" he whispered. I smiled, and put an arm around his shoulders.  
"Course I do! You're my super best friend!" he leaned forward into my arms, and sat hugging each other until the end of recess.

"You shoulda seen the look in her eyes. She looked crazy!" Stan laughed. He was amazed at how his best friend could seem so positive over something like this. Cartman had spread a rumour around that Kyle got beaten up by a girl; but the red-head didn't seem too unhappy about it- in fact, he was relieved at not having to come up with an excuse.  
He and Stan walked home that day- Kyle didn't fancy being stared at for the whole bus ride home. They moaned about all the homework Mr. Garrison was making them do, the crappy weather, and finally came to rest on the subject of Kyle's black eye.  
"I really think she'd kill me if I told anyone else, Stan." he said quietly, staring at his shoes. "That's why she hit me." They stayed in silence for a few minutes; Stan eventually speaking up.  
"You know I'll always be around to talk to you, right? Any time... Even if it's the middle of the night, you can call me."  
"Okay. Stan?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Thanks."

Ugh, it took me like three hours to write this and yet it's still crap.  
Oh well.  
Ta for reading!


	7. Author's Note 2

_Hi, and sorry for the delay.  
Something bad's happened at home... And right now, I don't have the time to update my stories. So sorry about that. I'll start writing again as soon as I can, but until then... Yeah._

Malakai


	8. Chapter 8

Hello everyone.

I know you expected this to be a long chapter with many apologies and half-hearted excuses but it isn't. There's nothing fake about this.

Kaia A'ala Rhea Lombardi passed away on Friday the 22nd July at 3:22 am with her son and brother in her arms. I know she promised to try and finish these but she never did, and there were no documents on her computer

I hope you see this as Kaia's goodbye and also just an informative, but Kaia didn't really leave us with instructions with what to do when she left, we knew it was coming but we never asked her what to do with her fics. It crossed my mind that we should continue them but only briefly, it would be an insult to her talent.

Well, here it is then. The last chapter of any of Kaia's stories ever, unless her laptop harbours some documents, but she spent her last weeks in palliative care, saying goodbye to her friends and declining treatment

She was an inspiration and a perfect friend to everyone who ever met her, she always had a bright outlook, whether it was her brother and his goldfish obsession or telling us that one of her doctor's was really hot.

This is Erin and Ely, signing off for Kaia for one last time.

We won't deactivate this account, but there will be no more updates. All reviews and alerts go to Ely now and we'll appreciate every message of comfort we may receive because knowing Kaia and then losing her hurts more than it's imaginable

Good luck with your own writing, and… goodbye.

Ely and Erin


End file.
